


How a Knight Earns His Keep

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Anal Fingering, Beautiful Golden Fools, Consensual Underage Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, Humiliation, Incest, Multiple Orgasms, Power Dynamics, Role Reversal, Scat, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Cersei finds out about how Jaime soiled his saddle from Qyburn.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister & Qyburn, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	How a Knight Earns His Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yingdao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yingdao/gifts).



> Timelines are hard. YOLO.

Cersei considered another glass of wine as Qyburn spoke. She’d summoned the former maester to her chambers to speak of Jaime. He’d been dodgy regarding the details of his capture. Cersei thought the former maester may have some insight.

“Your brother was delirious when I treated him,” Qyburn offered with a shrug. His new robes gave him a distinguished look, Lannister gold denoting his loyalty to her. “He spoke of many things.”

“Such as?” Cersei asked, deciding for another glass. She poured it herself, her back turned to Qyburn as he spoke.

She drank her first gulp swiftly, both sickened and amused at the thought of Jaime so weak. She’d always known she was the stronger of them, she’d endured their father’s derision and Robert’s squirming after all, but to see Jaime humiliated at anyone else’s hand left a sour taste in her mouth. Jaime’s shame ought to be hers alone.

“His lost hand, how he dirtied himself in his saddle, wanting after you,” Qyburn replied. 

Cersei looked down at her wine, studying her reflection. She had aged but was still beautiful. How dreadful it was to constantly look at herself through a man’s eyes. How dull men were to be always driven around by their cocks and their pride. Even her sweet brother was no exception.

She remembered Jaime had almost soiled himself once in their youth. His stomach grew so knotted and pained that he thought he might be poisoned and called for Cersei to join him lest he be on the verge of death. Cersei stood over her twin as he relieved himself. He was not dying then. She knew it well but prided herself on joining him.

\---

Jaime was buckled over as he sat. His face was red from exertion and his eyes were tearing slightly. He gripped the seat of the privy, his knuckles turning white. Cersei thought he looked handsome none-the-less. 

A servant had sent for Cersei. Jaime insisted upon it. She had obliged and now she stood over him as he cowered, his pants around his ankles.

“This isn’t how you die,” Cersei observed dryly. It felt absurd to admit her true reasoning, that she knew her brother wouldn’t shit himself to death because of some horrid old witch.

Jaime tightened his eyes as he strained.

“Easy for you to say, sister,” he grunted.

“A lion doesn’t die shitting itself. It dies hunting or defending its pride,” Cersei insisted, tilting her head slightly.

Jaime made no response this time, panting instead. His cock hung softly between his legs as he struggled. Perhaps it was because he was a warrior, but he seemed so ruled by the body. Shitting, fucking, eating, drinking, the whole lot seemed to dominate him as he did it. Such was the life of a man on a cusp of adulthood. Cersei envied the liberty he had. Her lusts and appetites were made to be private or erased as if a woman’s body was only to be desired, not lived in.

“Are a few peppers all it takes to down the greatest swordsman the Rock has seen?” Cersei sneered.

Jaime paused and rolled his eyes.

“You’re right. You’re right,” he murmured. “I ought to think of this as training.”

His second comment was said with a laugh. There was the bravery she knew.

Jaime stood as he cleaned himself.

“Come here,” Cersei ordered, placing a firm hand on her brother’s cock.

Jaime hissed as she touched him, his face twisting in embarrassment. Despite his recent discomfort, her brother still began to harden in her hand. 

The stench of the room was heavy in her nostrils, but this was about showing Jaime who they were and what they weren’t. 

The precursor to Jaime’s seed leaked from his tip as she stroked him, his cock jutting up from a swath of light pubic hair. With her other hand, she cupped her brother’s testicles, coaxing him closer to completion with possessive squeezes.

Jaime breathed hard, harder than he had on the privy. His green eyes rolled back and his whole form seemed to shake. This was the power their mother had left her. Jaime had his sword, and Tyrion had his silly little quips, but all Cersei had been given were her looks and her cunny.

Despite the filth around them, she found herself growing wet between her legs. Cersei had grown low on her supplies of moon tea, so as much as she ached to take Jaime inside her she ought to wait the fortnight till she bled again. If a man could see blood on the battlefield he ought not to fear it in the bedroom. If anything, it seemed to make her brother’s desire for her grow.

“I need to taste you,” Jaime insisted. “Remind your sweet brother what he fights for.”

Cersei laughed.

“I want my fingers sticky with your seed first, ser knight,” she teased. “I don’t want you distracted by that thing between your legs.”

Jaime had come to love pleasuring her with his mouth, eager to taste the milky seed that shot forth from the bud atop her lips. She wanted him wholly devoted to her pleasure as he lapped at her, his fingers inside her rather than pleasuring his cock.

Jaime’s thighs trembled and back arched as he finished. Swears tumbled from his lips, but most importantly he spoke his sister’s name thrice.

“Cersei, Cersei, Cersei. I love you,” he cried.

Cersei licked his seed from her fingers, savoring the mixture of bitterness and salt. If she had her way, she would never taste another man.

Jaime kissed her eagerly, the remains of his seed still coating Cersei’s mouth. If they could play their games here, there was no aspect of their body that was taboo to one another now. Cersei’s heart pounded in her chest as her tongue pressed against her brother’s. As they drew back her mouth still felt warm with the pleasure of their contact.

“I love you dearly as well. You are all I treasure,” she returned.

Cersei then seated herself on the edge of the privy, drawing up her skirts for her brother’s ease. She wished to fully enjoy the depths of her brother’s work, and not have to bother herself with standing. Jaime redressed himself slowly, then knelt between her legs. He eyed her slowly and reverently, handling her with the admiration one might reserve for a Valyrian steel weapon.

Jaime began by kissing her exposed thigh, his tongue suckling their way towards her womanhood. His kisses were messy and his smile blissful and uneven, his mind still in a post-coital haze. 

Cersei coiled her fingers in her brother’s hair. Left uncut it would grow thick and lustrous as her own. At a similar length of hair, the two of them grew indistinguishable, and they had played many a prank on their father and brother with this knowledge.

Jaime finally placed his mouth upon the hood above her cunt, while his finger’s teased at the sensitive and slick flesh surrounding her opening. As he sucked on the bud between her legs he inserted two fingers into her, Cersei crying out in pleasure from the sudden pressure.

Jaime worked his fingers deeper into her until he pressed against the spot inside her that unlocked a delicious pressure. He had described it to her as slightly wrinkled and firmer to the touch, and something about his touches there sent ecstatic spasms down the length of her legs.

Meanwhile, his mouth worked eagerly, the sound of him lapping at her growing wet and loud. Cersei had been careful to send their servants away so felt no risk in the volume of their passions.

“Faster, Jaime,” she urged. 

Jaime obliged her, increasing the pace of his fingers inside her. She could feel all manner of slickness between them and knew her climax would be swiftly upon them.

Cersei’s seed-like liquid shot forth as she finished. A sense of relief similar to urinating, yet more erotic, accompanied her ejaculation. She watched as Jaime happily swallowed down the substance, slowing his fingers in time with her hips.

Cersei let out a deep breath as the remaining pulses of pleasure washed over her. Jaime affectionately rested his head upon her thigh.

“I suppose I lived to see another day,” he murmured playfully.

Cersei nodded, clasping his head.

“Nothing ill can happen to you unless I will it.”

\---

After Qyburn’s departure, Cersei sent for her brother. Jaime was in his Kingsguard armor, looking all the part except for his golden hand. She poured them each a glass of wine as he approached.

Jaime kissed her straightaway, taking his sister into his arms. Feeling emboldened, Cersei pressed her tongue between Jaime’s lips. In a kind world, they would never part. They would kiss and hold each other freely and live openly as Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock. Instead, her mouth met her brother’s behind a locked door, the thrill and pain of their clandestine love encircling her heart and wetting her lions.

Jaime pressed deeper into their kiss and reached for the laces on the back of Cersei’s dress, loosening but not removing the garment. Cersei drew back.

“Your wine first,” she reminded him. Cersei held the glass to his lips, tilting it forward slowly. Jaime accepted the gesture, swallowing in time with each move Cersei made to steepen the glass.

She wanted to remind her brother there was no other woman who would stand beside him as she had, both in the sense of her loyalty and her resolve in matters of the body. Thinking of him as he had been in his saddle and as a boy gave her an odd rush and exited her curiosity. She wanted to be inside her brother as she occasionally had been, feeling every inch of him as he so often did with her. There was no perversity that they couldn’t share.

It would take a moment to unclasp his armor, but just as Jaime had become practiced as a handmaiden, Cersei had become skilled as a squire at stripping her brother from his armor. She worked slowly, pausing to massage each part she exposed.

Her brother’s arms were still well-toned and strong from swordplay, a brief moment of envy overtaking her as she squeezed him. Jaime gasped in response to her touches, his face lit up with affection and lust alike. 

His chest and torso were similarly toned, his shoulders moving gracefully as he stretched. Cersei placed a kiss along her brother’s bare neck, dragging her teeth lightly against his skin at the end of the gesture. 

“I missed this,” Jaime sighed. Cersei felt a rush of pride again.

“I want to try something,” she added. She and Jaime took a moment to each adjust the final layers of their garments.

The twins stood together as they were made. All was as it should be. Except for the hand. She could tolerate the hand if she had to.

Jaime gave her a cocky smile. Even with their youth fading, either would be the envy of all that desired the other twin. Cersei had wagered a few of her suitors had wished to lie with both of them, though Jaime would have no such thing.

“What did you have in mind, sweet sister?” Jaime asked, his eyes panning over her body. How foolish it was to have worried about the horse-ish Tarth woman. 

“The time we fucked with mirrored mouths-- a variation on that,” she explained. They had once spent hours with each of their mouths on the other’s sex, delaying their climax until Jaime had broken into tears over the ache in his balls.

Jaime nodded and kissed her again, his tongue pressing softly against her own. Jaime lifted Cersei’s legs reflexively, years of carrying her to bed this way having made it a habit. For a moment, she was worried his new hand would make their old trick no longer feasible, but Jaime was capable.

The feeling of skin to skin was both electrifying and relaxing. Cersei’s dream as a girl was to lie nude with him in a field, enjoying the sun on their skin and the feel of their bodies meeting.

The tangled aspect of their lovemaking subsided. Jaime had leaned back with her in his arms, then rolling Cersei onto her back. He next turned about, his rear and sex facing her as he placed hungry kisses atop her public mound.

“Taste me,” Cersei murmured. She wanted her brother full of her taste and her fingers alike. He would think only of her.

Jaime began to suck at the bud of her pleasure, his tongue occasionally swiping between her lips. Cersei’s thighs clenched reflexively and she gave her brother’s cock a few brief jerks, her hands growing sticky with the herald of his seed.

Cersei then carefully gripped the two cusps of his ass and squeezed. Jaime let out a perplexed hum, but the hardness between his legs remained.

She moved a careful touch closer to her brother’s gatehouse, watching with curiosity as the ring of flesh twitched in response.

Jaime paused a moment.

“Feeling bold, I see,” he quipped, bravado failing to mask the brief flicker in his voice.

“There is no bolder woman in the Seven Kingdoms,” Cersei insisted. “Do as your queen bids you and taste me.”

Jaime let out a flustered groan. Knights served their Queen. That was their place after all.

Jaime let out another undignified noise as Cersei pressed her middle finger inside him. From between her legs came the wet sound of his kisses mixed with his jagged pants. Her brother was tighter inside than she had ever been.

As her finger moved deeper inside him, Cersei let out the secret that had been growing inside her.

“Don’t speak. Qyburn told me you made a mess of your saddle,” she commented. Love her brother as she did, she still could not help the derision entering her voice. Perhaps it was because she loved him, she felt the need to chide him so.

“You must have been filthy,” she added. Cersei pulled back and instead tried to enter her brother with two fingers. It was difficult to do dry and she was sure it hurt, but how many painful couplings had she endured for him?

Jaime nodded along, arching his hips back to better accommodate her.

“You know I would have still taken you so wretched. You belong to me, and I to you.”

Jaime’s tongue swiped in such a way that it sent a shock nearly to her belly. Her first spilling was close, though she would likely experience the throes of pleasure multiple times.

Cersei wormed her fingers deeper inside her brother as her first climax came over her, every muscle in her lower-half clenching in ecstasy. 

“Keep going for me. I want you splattered with seed before we’re finished,” she ordered.

Jaime obliged.

As she moved deeper within her brother, she found a soft spot that brushing, even lightly, against made Jaime’s thighs shake. She settled into massaging the sensitive region as her brother lapped at her.

Jaime’s cock continued to leak as throaty groans fell from his lips. Despite being overstimulated, Cersei managed to find her pleasure again. This time, the throb between her legs was weaker and she could feel slight discomfort afterward as the muscles inside her spasmed afterward.

“That’s enough. Beg me to finish you,” Cersei decided.

“Finish me,” Jaime answered weakly. It sounded as if he were straining from a series of blows. How odd that such a small touch could weaken a man so.

Cersei flicked her finger faster, Jaime gasping for breath in response.

“Please, Cersei,” he cried. “I love you. I need this.”

Jaime’s seed spurted from his cock, as he clenched tighter around his sister’s fingers. 

Jaime climbed around to her side as she withdrew her fingers. She wiped the mess he left off idly. She’d have the sheets washed later.

“I did,” Jaime murmured. “I made a mess of myself back there.”

It was unlike her brother to admit this. Perhaps pleasuring him as she had changed something in him. She felt closer to him though. Whatever the change as it was for the best.

She felt close to sleep, but uncertain if they’d be interrupted. She'd indulge in lying with him for a time before sending him away. Her brother had earned it.


End file.
